


Insurmountable

by shamebucket



Category: Room No. 9 (Visual Novel)
Genre: Birthday, Depression, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-15 22:44:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21025967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shamebucket/pseuds/shamebucket
Summary: Ending C. All content warnings apply.Seiji turns 22.





	Insurmountable

Fake morning pours through the windows, like it does every 24 hours. Or it would, if we ever bothered to open the blinds. We sleep and wake so irregularly that there's not really a point to that. I let my phone die last week... has it been a week... so I would stop checking the time. Seiji's watch lies by the sink in the bathroom. Knowing what time it is just depresses me more. 

Groggy and head pounding from over-stimulation (and probably dehydration, come to think of it), I sit up and press the heel of my palm to my temple. Seiji is curled up in a ball on his side of the bed. I won't wake him for now. 

I stand up. The tablet lies quiet and still by the television screen. That, too, we've kept turned off for ages. I did order some porn once but it ended up being distracting - Seiji's right there and he needs me. He needs me, and I'm the only one who can take care of him. Hm. Frowning, I turn on the display and order food with our points. I guess I could do math and figure out how long we've been here by how many points we've got left, but who cares. We'll get out of here eventually, right? I look over our next assigned two tasks. 

...Right. Not today. 

Despite everything, there are some routines I have to follow. Being in this situation is, well, not ideal, but we get fed three times a day and don't have to want for much, so at least there's that. Groaning, I walk to the bathroom. Like I do every morning, I shave. I hate the feeling of stubble on my face. I might be depressed, maybe, but at least I have standards. I comb my fingers through my hair and lean against the sink. I look pale. "Mm." I pick up my toothbrush, quickly brush my teeth, gulp down a glass of water, and walk back into the room. 

Seiji's awake, sitting up on his side. He squints, blinking slowly. "Daichi." His voice is hoarse from lack of use, but even now I can sense some desperation in his voice. 

Within a few seconds, I'm sitting on the edge of the bed. He leans into me immediately. "Shh. It's okay." I wrap an arm around him and nuzzle against his fluffy hair. "I'm here."

His body presses hard against my shoulder and chest. "Nnn." His nose prods against my neck and he sighs, his skin warming at the simple touch of being held. Our bare thighs touch, his slowly rubbing against mine. I swallow. Sluggishly, as if in a trance, his hand moves between my legs. His teeth graze right above my jugular vein. "Daichi..." 

The bell rings, indicating that our food has come. 

"I'll get it." Seiji slumps back onto the bed when I stand, his body as crumpled as our sheets. 

Looks like we missed breakfast. This isn't the first time, and it won't be the last, but it's unfortunate. However... there's something extra on our lunch plates today. 

The food is always good, but I've kind of stopped paying attention to that. I can tell that whoever makes this stuff is skilled, but there's not really a point in eating for pleasure. All I have to do is stay alive. Stay alive until I can get Seiji and me out of here. Nothing else matters. 

That said... I've never remembered them giving us a rich dessert along with our lunch. There's a Mont Blanc on each of our plates, wobbling slightly as I set them down. "Huh," I say, scratching my head. I wonder why we got these. I know the sick fucks are watching our every move. Something ugly burns in my stomach as my brain desperately tries to start working. Are we putting on a good show, and this is our reward? Seiji sits down, eyeing his reflection in the vegetable stew. He frowns almost imperceptibly. "You have any idea why we got this?" I ask him, poking at my cake. White peeks through the brown cream after I stab it with my fork. 

"I wonder," he says at length. 

I blink a little in surprise. That's the most intelligent thing I've heard him say in ages. "Yeah, I guess." I swallow a spoonful of stew. It's rich and warm. It reminds me of something far away. 

I try not to think about what life was like before. This is what life is now, and will be until we get out of here. There's no rush, but it'd be nice to leave eventually. I wonder what will become of us when we leave? 

...Dark thoughts cloud my brain, making it impossible to think. I shake my head. "Do you like it?" I haven't asked him that question about food in a long time. We normally eat, bathe, sleep in silence, only barely talking when we're fucking. It seems to be the only thing he really wants... which I guess is good, since it's the only thing I really know how to give. 

He nods. "It's sweet." He takes a forkful into his mouth. Carefully, he rolls the morsel around his mouth, and eventually swallows. "Ah." He parts his lips, revealing the white meringue on his tongue, and closes his jaw and swallows again. 

I raise an eyebrow, my mouth hanging open slightly. "I... see." 

...It's been a long time, come to think of it. I frown. Has it been that long? Couldn't be. Seiji's pubic hair has all but grown back, but that doesn't mean it's been as long as I think it might have been. The next task... would either be him cutting into my arm, which he probably isn't mentally capable of at this point, or doing ass to mouth without a condom. That's pretty gross even to me, so... maybe some other day. 

"Daichi." Seiji lies back on the bed, trembling. "Please." 

Well, the birthday boy can get what he wants, I figure, climbing on top of him. Someday, we will change the sheets. We will take long showers and scrub ourselves raw of the slime on our skin. We will get out of here. 

Today, it's all about him. 

"Okay," I tell him. He gasps as my teeth graze his nipple and my hand reaches lower. Our stew goes cold and my Mont Blanc deflates. It loses its shape as I defile my best friend, our bodies formless as the LED light fades.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday, Seiji! I'm sorry!


End file.
